


Lusty

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Season/Series 04, Season/Series 05, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-04
Updated: 2005-01-04
Packaged: 2018-12-27 13:33:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12082062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Justin gets lonely in Los Angeles. Inspired by the song "Lusty" by Lamb.





	Lusty

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Justin feels like there's a fever running a course through his veins. Every centimeter of his skin is burning, on fire, unquenchable. He feels like he could die if something isn't done. He knows what he needs, though, and he knows there's very little chance he'll get it.

He reaches for his cell phone, not caring what time it is in Los Angeles or in Pittsburgh, only caring that he _needs_ to do _something_ about this.

**.**

Brian wakes up, groggily registering the sound of his cell phone ringing. It's a normal ringing noise, not one of those ridiculous and faddish ringers with some catchy song he's likely to hate in a week. He grabs the phone and looks at the alarm clock next to his bed: it's 4:46 in the morning. His eyes are too bleary to recognize the caller ID on the front of the phone.

"What. The. Fuck," he says. It's not even a question, but rather more of a demand. And there better be a good fucking explanation for this.

He hears a gasping sound on the other end and sits upright in the bed.

"Justin?" he asks, worried. He soon realizes he needn't be worried, unless Justin masturbating is a bad thing. He's pretty sure it's not, even at 4:46 in the morning.

"Brian," Justin gasps. "I'm so close, oh god, I'm so close." Brian can hear a slight moan then, and his cock starts to twitch and rise. He wants to ask what the fuck is going on, but he can't bring himself to say the words. Instead, his hand reaches for his dick, eager to join in the fun.

"Brian, I can't do it, I can't, it won't come," Justin's words are raggedly running together and the frustration in his voice makes Brian's dick harden in his palm.

"Why not," Brian nearly moans these words, but he's not sure if he should let Justin know that he's enjoying this so much.

"Jesus, I don't know, I just couldn't stop thinking about you." Justin grunts and groans, obviously working hard at the task at hand. Brian worries for a second that Justin might actually hurt himself, but the thought is fleeting.

"Well... What do you want me to do, Sunshine?" Brian sighs, and lets his cock loose from his grip for a moment. It stays right were he leaves it.

"Help..." Justin licks his lips audibly. "Help me."

"That would be a hell of a lot easier if you weren't in a completely different time zone," Brian mutters. Glancing again at his alarm clock, he realizes it's only nearing two in the morning for Justin. In Los Angeles, Brian remembers.

Justin lets out a sigh of exasperation, frustration, sexual insanity -- Brian's not really sure which, but they all turn him on to some degree or another. He feels a droplet of pre-come slide down the head of his dick in response to Justin's breathy noises. Brian gets an idea.

"Justin, how long was your flight out there?" Brian asks. Justin sighs, sounding defeated. Brian imagines Justin letting go of his own dick, possibly withdrawing a couple of fingers from his own asshole, and feels a little sad.

"A little over four hours, I think. Why?" Justin clears his throat and Brian can hear the rustling of sheets.

"I'll see you in four hours," Brian says. He flips his phone shut before he has a chance to change his mind.

**.**

On the flight from the Pitts to the Land of Sunshine, Brian manages to get the rest of his much-needed beauty sleep. The flight attendant comes around offering beverages and Brian asks for a shot of tequila. She smiles and hands him a tiny bottle, and tells him to enjoy the flight. Brian fucking _loves_ first class.

In his dreams, Brian is fucking Justin for the first time in six months. He won't admit it to Justin or Michael, but he's actually growing tired of his superhero alter-ego. Rage is what's keeping Justin on the other side of the country when he should be in Brian's bed.

Dreamworld Justin is tight from having not been fucked in six months, because Dreamworld Justin's ass belongs only to Brian. Brian knows somewhere inside himself that Justin has probably had as much sex as he has in the last six months, but this part also reminds him that it really hasn't been that much sex. A trick a week, if that.

Brian comes in his dream, thrusting as deep as he can into Dreamworld Justin's sweet, tight ass, and he wakes himself up calling Justin's name. When he opens his eyes and looks around, he finds himself getting strange looks from the handful of other passengers on the early morning flight.

He decides to spend the rest of the voyage watching the in-flight film.

**.**

Arriving at the LAX airport shortly after ten, Brian registers the fact that he didn't even bring any luggage with him. He reassures himself that Justin will have the necessary condoms and lube, and the rest is really unimportant at this point. He's not planning a lengthy visit -- he has more work waiting for him at Kinnetik than he cares to remember in the middle of this ridiculous adventure.

Brian checks his wallet for cash, which he isn't surprised to find in there. He calls himself a cab and realizes he has no idea where the fuck Justin's apartment is. He delves back into his wallet and finds Justin's business card and smiles to himself that Justin even _has_ a business card. He flips the card over to see where he's written Justin's home address, and his heart catches in his throat for a second when it occurs to him that he's just thought of it as Justin's home address.

"Where to, huh?" The cab driver is calmer than Brian expects after his experiences in New York City, but is still impatient. Brian reads off the address and tucks the card away. He makes a mental note that it is not Justin's home, because Justin already agreed to move back in with Brian. Granted, L.A. is where he's staying, Brian thinks, but home is somewhere else. Then he rolls his eyes at how very lesbian he's being about all of this and settles in for the drive. He wonders what the fuck time it is _here_.

**.**

Knocking on Justin's door, apartment 4015B, Brian finds himself irritated that he doesn't have a key. He thinks it's a stupid thing to be irritated about, but he reminds himself that Justin had the security code and the key to his loft at just the tender age of seventeen.

Brian knocks harder.

The door opens, finally, and there is Justin, wearing nothing but his tight, white underpants. Brian thought for sure the boy -- no, he's a man now, Brian thinks -- would have gotten better sense living out on the fashionable west coast.

"Holy shit, you're actually here!" Justin's tired eyes perk up as he literally starts jumping up and down, shrieking. Brian has to stifle his laughter, but gives up when he decides that Justin queening out in his skivvies is too funny to pass up laughing at.

"Yes, I'm actually here. Holy shit," Brian repeats Justin's exclamation, but in his patented I'm-cooler-than-James-Dean monotone voice. He wraps his tired arms around the smaller man's frame and rests his forehead against Justin's. This, this exact moment, Brian thinks, is what I've been waiting for this whole time.

**.**

It's only a matter of seconds before Justin slams the door shut and starts tearing through Brian's clothes. He throws the Armani suit Brian is wearing to the floor, only briefly wondering why the fuck Brian would wear Armani on a six o'clock flight out of Pittsburgh. He knows the answer and smirks when it occurs to him, and then quickly resumes his task.

Brian starts to try to chastise Justin for throwing the expensive suit on the apartment floor, and only gets half of a syllable out of his mouth. Justin is on his knees in front of Brian, the older -- Justin smirks at the thought -- man's dick now touching the back of his throat. Brian gasps and Justin starts bobbing his head, working his hands around the base of the shaft.

"Holy... shit..." Brian manages to utter the words he'd used to tease Justin only a few moments before. Justin pauses in his administrations to laugh, and the vibration in his throat makes Brian's cock jump. "Jesus," Brian hisses.

Brian comes, a record time, he thinks, and rests his hands on the top of Justin's blonde head. The fuzzy stage has passed and his hair is now styled very similarly to the fashion he wore it in when Brian first met him. Less gel, Brian thinks, and approves.

Justin stands up slowly, wiping his mouth with the side of his hand and grinning at Brian. "I can't believe you're really here," he murmurs.

"Me either," Brian says, and pulls Justin back into his arms. He kisses Justin softly, and smiles a little at how perfect the moment really is. He steps back and slides his ankles out of his pants, piled around his feet, and eyes Justin. "Where's the bedroom?"

Justin merely laughs, and leads Brian down the hall to the room where he sleeps. Even after six months, he still doesn't think of it as His Bedroom.

**.**

When Brian leans Justin over the side of the bed and slides his silly white underwear down, Justin thinks that he might just come all over the bed right then and there. He wishes that he'd thought to put on some hotter underwear, but he knows that Brian would still fuck him even if he was wearing a pink boa, Emmett-style, but wrapped around like a loin cloth. Justin laughs and Brian ignores him, and starts rubbing Justin’s feverish skin.

Brian rubs his hands from Justin's shoulders down to the small of his back, and then up again. He slides one hand around and runs his fingers across Justin's nipple and remembers when the little twink had that ridiculous -- but kind of hot -- piercing. He tweaks that nipple for good measure, making Justin squirm.

Justin moans and thrusts his ass towards Brian, brushing his bubble butt against the head of Brian’s dick. Brian moans in return and tries desperately not to thrust into Justin on the spot.

“Do you… have any… _fucking_ lube?” Brian grits his teeth through the whole sentence, and starts working a finger into Justin’s asshole. Justin throws his head in the direction of the nightstand by the bed, and Brian reaches his other hand over to pull open the top drawer. He’s surprised to find that the lube is, as yet, unopened. He has to twist the cap off with his teeth and maneuver his free hand to puncture the protective seal on the lubricant. “Why the fuck do you have _unopened_ lube,” Brian asks. He adds a finger, still unlubricated, to torture Justin.

“Haven’t… had a chance to use it…” Justin moans, thrusting backwards onto Brian’s fingers and trying to get them to brush his prostate. Brian smirks and pulls his fingers out abruptly, and then coats them all with lube. Justin groans for the loss of fullness, but Brian puts a stop to that by putting four fingers in at once. Justin’s knees buckle and he falls on to the bed.

“That’s a good boy,” Brian murmurs. He keeps finger fucking Justin, pumping in and out, while the boy writhes on the bed.

“Brian… I swear to god… All night I felt like I was going to… die,” Justin struggles to breathe, let alone speak, as he feels his asshole being filled and denied and stretched and fucked. “I was so hot but… ughhhhh… Nothing would happen.”

“I think we can fix that, Sunshine,” Brian says. He grabs a condom out of the drawer in the nightstand and tears the packet open with his teeth. He uses his free hand to roll the condom over his dick, and lets out a quiet moan as he feels the cool, slick latex slide over his skin. He pulls Justin’s arm, indicating for Justin to roll over and face him.

Brian spreads Justin’s thighs apart with his knees, and perches himself between them. He runs one hand up the inside of Justin’s right thigh, brushes his balls as he comes across, and then slides the hand back down Justin’s other leg. Justin’s body vibrates with pleasure and wanting, and his dick is standing straight up and twitching. Brian smiles at how badly Justin wants this, and forgets for a moment how badly _he_ wants it too.

Brian pushes Justin’s legs up and towards Justin’s face, and Justin groans at the touch. His eyes aren’t even open, and Brian wonders if he’s even there, because he’s obviously too horny to even think straight. Brian struggles again to keep from slamming into Justin without a second thought.

He puts a drop of lube into his hand, and closes his palm around it to warm the liquid up for Justin’s sake. Reaching down, Brian rubs the lube into Justin’s asscrack, around the hole and then thrusts a finger inside, to the second knuckle, just long enough to make Justin gasp and writhe before it’s gone.

He leans into Justin’s legs, lining himself up with the tight hole he’s been fantasizing about for the last five or six hours. For the last six months. For the last few years, Brian thinks. With that thought, Brian slides himself slowly into the place that feels more like home than any loft or apartment or house in the universe. He groans, and Justin does too, and he leans in and kisses Justin as he feels himself brush against that spot inside, and Brian feels the man beneath him writhing.

Brian can’t resist thrusting his tongue into Justin’s mouth in time with his cock thrusting into Justin’s ass. He doesn’t even know how he’s managed not to come yet, and for the first time he thinks he might not be able to control it. The tightness, god, _fuck_ , the tightness, it’s like the first time all over again, except this time Justin is thrusting back, riding Brian from beneath.

Justin moans, kisses Brian hard, and reaches under Brian to grab his own dick. Brian catches this, between thrusts, and pushes Justin’s hand away. He begins to pump Justin’s dick in his fist, timing the passage of his palm over the sensitive ridge below the head with the thrusting of his cock into Justin’s prostate. Justin comes, hard, coating his own stomach and Brian’s hand in a tiny sea of hazy white liquid.

Brian follows suit, thrusting into Justin as hard as he can bear to and coming harder than he can remember ever coming.

Coming home, a thousand miles away.


End file.
